PENKNIFE

enter the field of the galloping stallion
kicking up mud like a young rapscallion
clods of mud in the clean cut air
nostrils flicker while the white eyes glare
flaming mane and thumping legs
warily edge back, back to the hedge

violin bow tail, violin wail
hoofprint, horseshit, horseshoe trail
strange thing with the wigwam skin
bucktooth beast with the habsburg chin

horse in the gorse
horse on the heath
horsey breath mingles over
horse mouth teeth
enter the field of the galloping stallion

i roughly consider this poem the first ever poem i wrote, or at least the first poem i kept. it begins my poetry book poemario 1. i still remember the feeling of walking into a field and my aura being invaded by HORSE.